


All That Glitters

by brain_purge



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: (Ish) - Freeform, (mentioned) - Freeform, Anakin has a sadistic bent, Cock Warming, Dark Anakin, First Time, Implied Imbalance of Power, M/M, Omorashi, POV Second Person, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, bottom obi-wan, but that's the way the story wanted to be written, no two ways about it, top anakin, yes I think it's weird too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 05:04:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6409969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brain_purge/pseuds/brain_purge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been years. And after all this time, all you had to do was ask.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All That Glitters

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like Obi-Wan is somewhat (haha) OOC in this story. The thing is, it makes sense in my mind because I have a smidgen of notes on backstory and context (which is hinted at in the tags). But, I really just wanted to share the smut. So, there's that. ~~I mean, does anyone actually care in PWP stories?~~
> 
> Anyway, I think I tagged everything appropriately. But I'm still getting used to the system. So if I missed anything, feel free to point it out.

Obi-Wan is pliant beneath you. Better yet, he is needy, and vocal.

You have him on his stomach, so he can muffle the worst of the noise in your pillow. He jerks as you brush two fingers over his prostate again, gently this time. Teasing.

"Anakin," he breathes. "More. Please, please."

You slide another finger into him. Slowly. Carefully, if anyone asks, but to yourself you admit that you enjoy watching him squirm.

It's been years. And after all this time, all you had to do was ask.

You've been at this for at least half an hour. You had plans for longer, but you forgot to take your own desire into account. Between the two of you, you're the more hedonistic half, but you figure if you spend the entirety of your first time together torturing Obi-Wan he may never forgive you for it.

He is well-stretched as it is. You pull your fingers from his body and grin to yourself at the way he moans and clenches when he's empty.

"Spread your legs for me Master," you coax. "We're almost there."

You're kneeling between his legs already but he complies anyway, spreading himself even wider because you asked it of him. In the meantime you oil yourself down, biting back the sounds you would have otherwise made had you been by yourself. You don't want to overshadow anything that might come from Obi-Wan. He is displaying himself with an abandon that you have never before witnessed, but have always longed to see. Tonight is all about him.

You guide yourself to his opening and push past the initial resistance. You glide in the rest of the way, smooth as silk, and as secure as a glove that was tailored specifically for you. It seems to go on forever until you bottom out, that delicious heat engulfing you and cradling you.

(Tonight is, a little, about you as well.)

Your master feels fantastic. He looks even better, stretched wide as he is, skin flushed and glistening, taking you perfectly, like it was meant to be. You tell him so.

He rocks back against you and uses his muscles to clench down on you. You rock into him in return. Then you slide out, about halfway, before slamming back in.

His broken wail is glorious.

You set a pace. It's fast, and nearly brutal. For all that you love your master there has been some difficulty between the two of you as well. And it feels good to own him, to have control over him, to watch him take, and take, and take, and call out for more.

He is at your mercy now.

You drive him to completion first, letting him rub off on the bed. Then you continue to drive him through it, then beyond. His muscles undulate with his release. He calls your name in a perfect, desperate sob; but you grit your teeth through the euphoric sensation and don't let yourself follow. Not yet. You're not done with him yet.

So you fuck him relentlessly, aiming for his prostate and hitting ninety-percent of the time, until his moans of pleasure turn into those of distress and he is fisting the sheets and once again clenching his muscles in a futile effort to slow you down.

"Anakin," he pleads, but he doesn't ask you to stop. "Ani!"

Your pleasure crests, and this time, you allow it to flow to completion. You give one last thrust, burying yourself as deep as is physically possible. Obi-Wan's breath hitches as your release pulses into him, filling him further, claiming him as your own.

In-between ragged breaths you tell him to turn on his side. You follow the motion so that the two of you remain joined and his back is pressed firmly up against your chest. There is a wet mess on the sheets in front of Obi-Wan but you draw up the covers and drape your mechanical arm over his torso and resolve to deal with it later.

He tries to pull away from you but you wrap yourself more firmly about him and he stills.

"Are you not going to move?"

You nuzzle your face into his neck. "I want to keep you full of my seed, for at least a while longer."

He shivers. Minutes pass and then, "I need to use the 'fresher Anakin. Let me up."

"You're a Jedi Master well-versed in the art of self-discipline." Your hand trails down his stomach and then presses down over his bladder.

The pressure, coming both from within and without, startles him into protest. "Ana-"

"You can wait," you inform him before trapping him back in the durasteel grip of your arm.

Your eyes drift shut in contentment as you listen to him whimper.


End file.
